


Need (1/8)

by Betor



Series: Tentacle Series [1]
Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Crossover, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tentacle Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-18
Updated: 2010-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Betor/pseuds/Betor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightwing gets kidnapped by Harley Quin and molested by Poison Ivy's plants. Conner rescues him and fully consenting comfort sex is had.  Meanwhile Clark and Lex vet Conner's new boyfriend. Disclamor: I don't own, but merely play with. Warnings: Slashy, non-con plant bondage, tentacles! I debated with myself over how to list this; the plant molesting is not graphic, nor does more than groping occur, although Dick does not consent to said plant grope. You are now fully warned; plant bondage and groping ahead.  Oh, and don't forget the tentacles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Need

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge. Only professional characters and plants were used. Do not try this at home. Written to Kirax2's prompt: "There's not a pair of handcuffs that's been made that can hold Dick Grayson for long, thanks to his natural flexibility. But when he falls into a trap of Poison Ivy's, he discovers that her specially-bred 'tentacle plants' are a lot more adaptive than handcuffs, and they like to tease, too! By the time the author's choice of character comes to rescue Dick, that boy is in quite a state! Will his rescuer get captured, too? Will they leave Dick tied up and give him a helping hand? Or will they drag him back to their lair for ravishing?"

He wonders if Superman ever has days like this?

All he had wanted was a large loaded pizza. A new movie on DVD to watch while he ate pizza and drank the beer that had been chilling in his apartment's fridge. Simple pleasures that he'd been looking forward to enjoying all day. He'd been so eager that he hadn't even paused to change out of his Bludhaven policeman's uniform before hopping on his motorcycle and heading toward his favorite pizza place.

The bad had started as soon as he had walked out, his hands full of a warm, deliciously fragrant box. Huntress had called him, ostensibly to talk shop about a case she was working, but really to see if he'd changed his personal anti-booty call policy. And while he'd enjoyed his single one night stand with her physically, it had been the emotional equivalent of drinking non-alcoholic beer. He wanted the full flavored and buzz inducting real thing. He needed the kind of thing that he'd almost gotten with Kori and Babs. Then Babs had called.

He knew that Dinah spent a lot of time with Babs, but he'd always thought that that was due to their crime fighting. He had no idea that they were even dating each other, much less reaching the point of planning a June wedding. There had been a flicker of motion on the rooftop of the jewelry store that shared the same parking lot. He had looked up, glimpsed white and red spandex, and then BLAM!

Dick squirms in the heavy chains wrapped thickly around his body, The weigh makes it hard to move, but the heaviness will be good once he gets some momentum going. God, he hates it when they suspend him upside down like so much beef, and the ball gag stuffed in his mouth just ups the fun factor by twenty points. Dick sways harder, coaxing more motion from his chains. His determined blue gaze focuses on the ring of keys hanging on the opposite wall. If he can get to those keys before his weight combined with the weight of the chains snaps the flimsy hook that he's dangling from...shit!

The door opens and he swings with ponderous majesty past Poison Ivy. "A Bludhaven policeman, Harley! What were you thinking?"

The door slams shut and he can hear raised voices as they argue outside. Poison Ivy and Harley Quin. That's not good, but it could be worse. Ivy is as murderous as Harley, but she's the one with a cool rational streak. He can count on Ivy to see that murdering a Bludhaven officer will cause more trouble for them than it's worth. Ivy will probably walk away and leave him hanging here. Or ditch him somewhere far outside Bludhaven.

"Dick Grayson?" Ivy's voice carries through the door, extra loud with disbelief, "Dick Grayson! Are you certain?"

"I'll prove it to you, Ivy."

That does not sound good. Dick flings his weigh hard, jerking his way to a much faster swing. He's almost got enough height to grab the keys. "Oooooohh, shit!" He hears the snap of the hook, feels the second of free fall as he sails across the room to slam into the wall like a cannonball.

"What was that?!" Ivy yanks the door open.

"Oooooh! Talk about a dust up." Harley swaggers past Ivy. She casually holds a white stick in one hand.

Dick shakes plaster dust from his hair as the pair stare from him to the cracked crater on the wall. He keeps a wary eye on the stick that Harley is handling so casually. It doesn't look like the kind that he uses. It looks more like a magician's wand than escrima.

"Wow. Good thing, this isn't your house, Ivy. Or mine, although I don't think Mr. J would care. He likes the distressed look."' Harley moves around Ivy and bends over Dick to trace the shape of a mask across the dust on his face. "See, Ivy? What did I tell ya? It's him. Howdaya like my birthday present now?"

Ivy stares at him with narrowed green eyes. "Are you sure that it's him, Harley?"

"Uh-huh."

Dick flexes his muscles, trying to find enough wiggle room to escape. Damn, his civilian identity has just been screwed without lube. He'd always know that there was a chance of getting made. It's happened to other capes, but he'd never really believed that it would happen to him. Shit. He's go to have to tell Batman, and Robin, and Oracle, and the JLA. Something else to put the special in his day.

"But he's a brunette." Ivy steps around to view him from another angle.

"So hair dye is part of his disguise," Harley shrugs. "You don't think Mister J achieves that lovely green shade naturally, do you? Don't tell him that I told you that."

But he's always been a brunette. He was brunette as Robin, and brunette as Nightwing, and brunette as Dick Grayson. It had never occurred to him to dye his hair for one of his roles to through people off, but it's not like there aren't billions of brunettes out there. Superman's a brunette. Conner's a brunette. So is Wonder Woman. Probably half the JLA has dark hair. But if Harley and Ivy don't think he's Nightwing, who do they think he is? And equally important, how much had the cape in question pissed them off?

"Look at him, Ivy." Harley makes a frame of her hands and squints at his face. "Imagine him with gaudy gold hair. Put him a black and gold outfit."

Blond hair? Black and gold? Dick frowns, rapidly reviewing members of the League and unaffiliated capes for a match. There's quite a few blonds, but blonds who wear black and gold...

"Booster Gold." Ivy hisses. "I hate Booster Gold."

Booster Gold? They think he's that bozo? Dick growls around his gag.

"Shut up," Ivy snaps at him. She looks at her friend. "Have you told anyone else?"

"Not even Mr. J. I didn't realize who he was until I saw him staring up at me from that parking lot with the shadows falling across his face in just the right way. So I blammed him with this." She caresses the white wand.

"What is that?"

"What it looks like. A magic wand." Harley smirks. "A little something that I picked up on another job."

"A real one?"

"A fake one wouldn't be much fun."

"Harley." Ivy takes a deep breath. "I know that impulse control isn't your strong point, but stealing from a real magician...not the best choice. You've got to get the wand back, before its absence is noticed."

"Sure, Ivy. I'll give it back...eventually. I wanna have a little fun with it first. Whatcha gonna do with him, Ivy?" Harley looks down at Dick as he heaves against the weigh of the chains.

Ivy bares her teeth. "Have a little fun. I've been considering candidates for a field test of my latest creation. I believe I've found the perfect one."

"Oooooh! Are you gonna use Need? Are you? Puhllllllease, Ivy," Harley pleads. "I wanna watch."

What the hell is Need? Another of Ivy's man-eating experiments? His stomach knots as he considers what sort of plant, Ivy would feed a cape that she hated to. Dick protests around the gag, "Mmmphfmmup!"

"It can take Need quite some time to completely drain someone. It's probably the slowest, and yet most entertaining method, of dispatching superheroes that's ever been invented. I'm an even bigger criminal genius than Lex Luthor."

"You said it, sister," Harley chimes in supportively. "I've already told Mr. J that I was having a ladies weekend out with you. He won't expect to see me for a couple of days. Please, Ivy?Pleasepleaseplease!"

"Okay." Ivy looks at the wand. "Use that thing to transport us there now and you can watch."

"Yes!" Harley pumps her fist in the air. "Can we have popcorn?"

"Knock him out for me while you're over there."

Do supervillains ever have days like this? Dick tries to inchworm rapidly away. Days where everything goes wrong. Days where it all goes from sugar to shit without a second's notice. What about super genius supervill...


	2. Need (2/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner rescues him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge

"He's supposed to call!" Clark scowls at the empty place at the oak farm table. "That's the rule."

"Rules exist to be broken." Alexander inhales, breathing in the aromas of pot roast, simmering potato soup, and warming wheat rolls, with considerable satisfaction. He's been looking forward to this all day. Four years of marriage and the delight of being served a Kent cooked meal at the Kent family table still hasn't worn off. He opens the fridge and retrieves the red wine that he had selected and sent over that morning after being informed of the evening's menu.

"Alexander," Clark begins in the annoying tone that generally accompanies a lecture on the importance of rules and good moral fiber.

"Wine?" Alexander shoves one of the just poured glasses into his spouse's hand. He picks up his own glass and takes a sip. "See what you think."

"Since when do you care what I think about wine?"

"Clark. How can you say that?"

"You never let me chose the wine." Clark sets his wine, untasted by his plate.

"That's because the last time I did, you served a white wine with pizza." Alexander shudders. "White wine and pizza, Clark. And the JLA claims that I'm evil incarnate."

"Conner needs rules. With great powers..."

Alexander promptly interrupts, "Don't be such a stuffed cape. Conner's testing his boundaries. Pushing the parental envelope. It's growth phase."

"You make him sound like a toddler who has just learned 'no'."

Alexander takes his seat and watches hungrily as Clark prepares their bowls at the kitchen counter, sprinkling cheddar cheese shreds, diced green onions, and crumpled bacon over the potato soup before carrying the bowls to the table. "You need to accept that Conner isn't a toddler, or even a teen any longer. He's a young man now."

"Twenty-two is not a..."

"I dare you to tell Conner that. How would you have reacted if your parents told you that at twenty-two you still looked like a toddler playing in traffic to them?"

"Point made." Clark grabs a covered basket of wheat rolls and a crock of freshly made honey butter. He adds them to the table and takes his chair. He stares suspiciously at his husband. "Why are you so calm about this?"

"Me?" Alexander scoops up a spoonful of potato soup. He smirks as he thinks of how it must chap the JLA's collective ass to know that Superman cooks dinner for one Alexander Luthor every night.

"You. Control Freak of the Century."

"Ummmmm. Excellent soup."

Clark's eyes narrow. "You know where he is."

"Perfect. The bacon adds the exact amount of salty..."

"Alexander. We promised not to invade his privacy."

"No. We promised not to invade his privacy by listening in on him." Alexander reaches for the basket of warm wheat rolls. "I made no promises of any kind regarding what I might order Mercy and Hope to do for me."

Clark grabs the basket and pulls it to his side of the table before his husband can get one. "Where is our son?"

Alexander picks up his glass with a casual air as if the wine had been his goal the whole time. "I believe Conner specified his intended location as 'out'."

"He hasn't said anything about Mercy and Hope following him around."

"Because he knows that's a battle that he can't win. Much more face-saving to pretend that he isn't even aware that it's going on," Alexander drinks and sets his glass down. "I believe you have a passing familiarity with the tactic."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Clark helps himself to a roll and lavishes butter on it. He bites into it, making exaggerated yummy noises.

Alexander eyes the fragrant temptation of the covered basket. His husband made better baked goods than any of his chef did. That had been one of the reasons that he'd written the infamous cooking clause into their prenup. Imaging the expression on Clark's face when the alien discovered the clause had been another reason, and then there had been the secret pleasure of knowing that every day, he would be coming home to a meal prepared by Clark, and not a paid chef. "Conner also knows that as the more sophisticated parental unit, I'm more likely to be understanding about urges."

"Urges!" Clark stares at him in alarm. "No. Alexander, Conner can't have urges. It's too dangerous."

"Easy for you say."

"No, it's not. If anybody should know about urges, and how difficult they can be to control, it's me. You never met an urge that you ever had to control."

Alexander raises his eyebrows. "My father's still alive, isn't he? Not to mention Lois. You did tell her that Superman is married, didn't you?"

"Not yet," Clark mumbles. He stuffs the rest of the roll in his mouth.

"Not yet? We agreed that it would be better for your identity to not have Superman and Clark Kent get married at the same time. And I can even understand and agree with deciding to save the Superman's off the market announcement for a different year. But three years?" Alexander snags the unguarded basket and flips the plaid cloth cover back. He selects the largest roll and covers the rest.

"If I told Lois that Superman was married, she'd want to know who he was married to, then what would I say? We can't both be openly married to you. Who do you want me to claim?"

Alexander's mouth twists. Clark's got him there. He wouldn't like having someone else's name attached to Superman. "Fine. Superman can stay single...as long as he doesn't act single."

Clark grins. "I dunno. I got some of the hottest sex ever after Superman and Wonder Woman went out on a date."

"You said that was a cover." Alexander savages his roll, ripping it in half and then quarters.

"It was. Worked like a charm." Clark gives him a sly look. "That's why I told the League that we should use it again sometime."

"Great. Now the rest of them are trying to talk Wonder Woman to take one for the League and seduce you away from me."

"Alexander." Clark reaches across the table and takes one of the savaged quarters. He spreads honey butter over it and holds it out. "You're it for me. You're my One. You know that. There's no one who can seduce me away from you."

Alexander sighs loudly in mock annoyance. He leans forward and bites into the offered bread. "Conner is at Atlantis. Satisfied?"

"Not yet, but I have hopes for later tonight." Clark grins and eats the other half. "So he's okay with you spying on him?"

"We have an agreement. Mercy and Hope watch him when he goes clubbing so that I don't have to. Besides, who would you rather have following you around and watching you at his age...your dad or two hot women?" Alexander scoops up more soup.

Clark frowns. "You think Mercy and Hope are hot?"

"Shall I go on a pretend date with them and see if I score some of the hottest sex ever from my husband afterwards?"

Clark gives the older man a steamy look from beneath his bangs. "Guess what's on the menu for dessert?"

　

  



	3. Need (3/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner rescues him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge. 

Where is he? Dick discreetly flexes his fingers. His fingertips graze something that feels soft and fuzzy. It doesn't feel like a plant. It feels more like a blanket. That fits in with sensation of resting on a flat comfortable surface. Is he on a bed? His hand ventures slowly across the field of soft fuzziness, and as he moves he notices that there's something rubbery and nubby curled around his wrists. A twitch of his bare feet confirms that the same thing is encircling his ankles in a loose clasp.

God, his head hurts. How hard had Harley kicked him? He turns his head into the blanket, smelling a light green scent that reminds him of sage and oregano, and that makes him think regretfully of lost pizzas. He can smell butter and popcorn too. Hear the clink of bottles, and hear the steady munch, as Ivy and Harley talk softly like people waiting for the movie to start. His stomach growls loudly and Harley laughs.

Dick peers out from beneath his lashes. His bare feet frame a view of Harley and Ivy perched side by side on folding chairs. There's a small glass table between them with a large bowl of popcorn on it. Harley is holding a soda and Ivy is drinking water. He opens his eyes and looks upwards at the gloom behind the greenhouse glass overhead.

It's early evening here, but he doesn't know how much time has been lost while he was unconscious. Is he still even in the same time zone? Harley could have zapped them anywhere with that wand. Maybe he's still in Bludhaven, and the travel talk had merely been a psych to make him think that he might be far away from home base.

He licks his lips. The gag's gone. That's good from a physical comfort perspective, but a bad portent for his future. Apparently there's no one close enough to hear any yelling that he might do. Dick cranes his neck, trying to see what he has been placed on. The round, fuzzy bronze circle reminds him of the center of a sunflower.

But there's nothing friendly or sunflower like about the thick bronze vines curl around his wrists and ankles, holding him star spread across the center. At the circle's rim are strange yellow and bronze dappled vines of varying sizes in tangled heaps. Beyond the knots of vines, he can see interlocking rows of yellow petals.

Oh, man. What had Booster done to Ivy to deserve this as payback? Knowing that loud, obnoxious clown it could have been anything, and done without the least intention of giving offense to Ivy. Dick lifts his head again and looks at the two women. "I'm not Booster Gold."

"That's original." Harley yawns. She pats her mouth delicately with a gloved hand.

"I'm not!"

"I think you are lying." Ivy sets her water glass down. She gets up and strolls across the soft bronze to stand next to Dick. "I've never seen Booster without those yellow goggles. Are you sure that he has blue eyes, Harley? Are you sure that this is him? I'm not sure what he would look like as a blond."

"Stand back, and I'll show you."

"Don't you," Dick glares as Harley raises the wand. A blast of colored lights hits his face, leaving dazzled spots shimmering across his vision, "dare."

"Whatdaya think now?" Harley asks. "Does he look like Booster or what?"

Ivy chuckles. "Whether he's Booster or not, he's going to be able to tell us one thing for certain."

"What's that,Ivy?"

"I'm not telling you two anything." Dick lunges against the rubbery vines only be yanked back down.

Ivy smirks down at him. "Whether blonds really have more fun."

"What's that supposed to...hey!" Dick yells as something damp slithers up his leg beneath his black trousers to grope his knee. He jerks his right leg in vain against the vines. "What the hell!"

"It's not hell. Not yet." Ivy laughs throatily. "Meet my latest creation, Booster. I think Need likes you."

Dick stares, almost cross-eyed down his chest as a tendril snakes across his chest and disappears between the plackets of his white shirt. A second tendril oozes damply across the white cotton to join the first and one of his buttons pops off. "I'm not Booster."

"Of course, you're not." Ivy tucks a strand of long red hair behind her ear. Her toes flex against the fuzzy center of the giant flower. Great yellow yellows stir behind her, lifting upwards slightly. "If you aren't Booster, then who are you?"

"Dick Grayson." He squirms as one tendril slimes down his stomach and prods his navel. The other one rubs curiously over his nipple. A third tendril snaps off another button, enlarging the gap in his shirt and slides across his ribs. Dick bites his lip as it hits a ticklish spot.

"We know." Harley grabs a handful of popcorn. She throws a kernel at him and it bounces off his forehead. "We saw your ID."

Ivy asks, "Who else are you?"

"I told you. Dick Grayson. That's who I am."

"He's lying. Looks like Booster to me. I mean look at all that blond hair," Harley tells Ivy.

"You gave me the blond hair," Dick snaps. "I'm a brunette!"

"Coulda been dying it to be Booster." Harley laughs. "Ivy, he was dying to be Booster. Get it?"

"Hey!" Dick jerks against the vines as the tendril snaking down his stomach meets up with the one creeping up his thigh, and both curl over the front of his snug athletic briefs. He thrashes as more tendril slide wetly over his feet and hands. His eyes widen with alarm as he sees the thicker vines on the perimeter of the center stirring and creeping toward him. "Get this perv plant off me!"

"Villains everywhere will be lining up for Need," Ivy gloats. "And if they want Need, they will have to pay the price by doing everything in their power to protect the environment."

"Do you really think that they won't promise you anything, then take your plant, and do whatever they want? Delusional much? Shit!" Dick exclaims at a cold slimy nudge against his balls. He freezes into complete stillness as a tendril loops itself around and over and pulses against him.

"Do you think they would be so foolish as to double cross me? Need is a fast growing and short-lived species. I am the only one who can create more. And there will be other consequences for any villain who fails me in this." Ivy touches her mouth and kisses her fingertips.

"No." Dick twists his head away from her. A thick vine whips around him, curling around his throat, tightening in warning. More of the thicker vines curl around his arms and legs, holding him firmly.

"You don't give the orders here, I do." Ivy leans over him She unfastens his belt and pulls it through the loops. She tosses it to Harley, "There. Have a trophy."

"Thanks, Ivy." Harley strokes the thick leather. "It'll be the perfect accessory."

"Now you look more comfortable." Ivy untucks his shirt and tugs the hem up. She presses her fingertips to his stomach just above his waistband. "X marks the spot. Shall I tell you a secret? Why not since you won't survive the night. When I created Need, I shared something of myself. Do you remember what it felt like when I kissed you?"

Dick swallows, too appalled at the memory to even care when or why Ivy had kissed Booster Gold. She had only kissed him once, but he remembers the giddy sensation, and the longing to do whatever would make Ivy happy, all mixed with an intense lust.

"I see that you do." Ivy smiles at him. "I named this plant Need for a reason. The longer you are exposed, the more skin that comes into contact with the plant, the more you will burn with want until you will do anything to make it stop. Anything, but unfortunately for you, you don't have anything that I want. We're only here to see how long you last and that depends on how long you can hold out. Once Need has drained you dry, then the show is over."

Dick growls at her. "When I get out of here..."

"But you aren't. You are never leaving. Need will consume every bone. I'm more worried about whoever Harley stole that wand from than you."

 

  



	4. Need (4/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner rescues him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge. 

Conner swallows beer without tasting it as he watches most of Tim's other guests splashing around in Atlantis' newest attraction, the wet dance floor; a clear-sided tank, supposedly filled with vodka. He steps back out of splashing range as two staffers toss fresh batches of glitter specked liquid over the dancers. Pops would totally freak if he knew about the wet dance. Popster, who did know, had only sighed and ordered Mercy and Hope to let him know who he needed to kill.

It looks like fun, but he doesn't quite trust himself to frolic in liquid of any kind surrounded by so much wet, mostly bare skin. Not even with Popster's ominous comment lurking in the back of his mind. Conner tosses back more beer. The club's guests would have something to really scream about if he lost it. Or if one of the drunk idiots in the tank managed to yank his jeans down. With his luck, it wouldn't be his ass that got flashed at the party crowd.

He sets his empty beer on the bar and signals for another. Can he go yet? He's taken Tim and Cassie from one Metropolis Be Seen At place to the next this evening. Has three hours been long enough to convince them that he's cool with Wonder Girl deciding that she'd rather date Tim?

Or he could tell Tim who he'd really like to peel out of a uniform. He's up for a game of find the hidden fastenings with Nightwing. Assuming that he can get the older man to see that he's an adult now. He's surprised that Tim hasn't noticed his curiosity about Nightwing's social life, but he's been careful to keep his questions casual and spaced well apart.

At least until tonight. Tonight he hadn't cared if he tipped his hand. All he'd cared about was making certain that Wing was still unclaimed and available for the right cape to swoop down upon. He's been daydreaming about swooping down on the other hero for years, and now that he's an adult...the rules have changed. He only needs to figure a way to let Wing know that he considers the older man swoop-worthy, and see what happens. He's gotta find a chance to tip up on Nightwing the next time they work together and ask him out.

Conner sighs as he imagines asking Nightwing, and then some inconsiderate villain busting in before he gets an answer, or some member of the Bat Clan sneaking up, or worse...Beast Boy or Starfire popping up. Not like he's got much in the way of other options. Tim would no more tell him, Wing's real identity, than he'd ask.

Not that he needed to. Not with his hearing. He'd traced Nightwing's voice, face, and heartbeat to one Dick Grayson years ago, but he doesn't want to startle the older man, or admit to Wing that he'd peeked beneath Nightwing's mask to admire the handsome face beneath. Wing might not appreciate that. He could ask Tim to give Nightwing his private contact info and ask Wing to contact him, but that feels so high school, and the last thing he wants to do is remind the other man that he's only been in college for a couple of years.

Conner brightens. Everyone knows that Bludhaven is Nightwing's town. If he goes to Bludhaven and hangs out, all nice and open, then sooner or later, Wing will be sure to make contact to find out what the hell he's doing there. And then he can offer to help out with whatever Wing's got going on Bludhaven. Score some quality time. Let Wing get to know him and scope out the situation. See how open the other man is to getting swooped.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dick pulls against the vines. There's no slack. No yielding. Maybe he can snap the vines. He yanks hard, and nothing happens. He tries again, straining his muscles, but it's like trying to break Superman's gently implacable grip. Struggling isn't getting him anywhere. Maybe if he forces himself to relax as much as he can.

Dick stares up at the great yellow petals hovering above him like a tidal wave waiting to crash down. His clothes are in shreds and his bare skin unpleasantly wet with a combination of his own sweat and perv plant slime. It's no use, he's too pissed and aroused to find his center and do any kind of meditation.

Ivy had picked the right name for the damned plant. He aches with the need to cum. His balls hurt. His cock throbs, on the verge of it. Every brush, rub, or squeeze of the tendrils sets off a fierce inward battle to not yield, to not give some damned fresh plant, or Ivy, the satisfaction.

He's tried everything that he can think of...except for his option of last resort. Gonna be damned embarrassing to be found like this, but better found alive like this, than let Need have his bones and body. Hell, he'd do naked acrobatics down Bludhaven's main street before he'll let Ivy and her creation beat him.

"I'm going to burn you to ashes." Dick cries out, body arching in a shuddery, sweaty battle for control as the tendrils pulse and ooze against his skin. He can't hold out much longer, he's going to have to call out for someone that might hear him even if it means giving away his other identity. "Kon! Kon! KON!"

"Wing?"

Dick blinks up at the big, red-eyed shadow looming over him, silhouetted by a gap torn in the petals. "Thank god, you heard me. Don't let it touch you. It's one of Ivy's..." he arches with a desperate moan as the tendrils tighten around him, "plants. Aphrodisiac qualities. Dangerous."

"I'm different, remember?" Conner soothes as his gaze moves around Dick, blazing a path and shearing tendrils away. "It won't affect me. Poison Ivy did this to you?"

"With Harley's help." Dick sits up, muscles tight and awkward from being bought for so long. Behind Conner a mass of thick vines are rising upwards. "Look out!"

Conner snatches the other man and lofts them both into the air, beyond the reach of the groping tendrils. He blasts the plant with his heat vision until only a heap of ashes are left. "Where's Ivy and Harley?"

"They left." Dick shudders, fighting for control of his body, but the sense of safety, the feel of warm muscles, pressure of Conner's jean covered flank against his cock is too much, and he's cumming against the other man. "Oh, god. Conner, I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"Shhh. It's okay. You worry too much, Wing. Anybody ever told you that? Look, I'm gonna take you home. Throw you in the shower, jeans in the wash, everything will be good as new." Conner's light tone, darkens ominously, "That's first. Ivy and Harley, we'll deal with later."

 

　

  



	5. Need (5/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner rescues him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge.

He can't believe that he's in Lex Luthor's castle, taking a shower in a Luthor guest suite. It's a really nice shower, even better than the showers in Wayne Manor....not that he plans on mentioning that to Bruce. Not unless Bruce is extra annoying one day. Dick turns slowly in the multiple jets of water, luxuriating in Luthor's apparently endless supply of warm water. He's beginning to feel more like himself after scrubbing the plant slime off his skin, and indulging in a quick jerk-off session.

He reluctantly turns the shower and steps out to towel dry. He wraps one enormous black towel around his waist and uses the other to briskly blot his hair. Dick swipes a clear spot on the steam-covered mirror. He scowls at the still bright blond hair. Thank god, tomorrow is his day off. Will dye cover this? Or will the magic keep it from working? He does not want to hear the commentary from his coworkers. Or Batman, although, he might could squeak by with a claim that he's experimenting with disguises.

Dick hangs his towels over the rack to dry. A navy terrycloth robe and a pair of blue pajamas folded on the counter catch his gaze. He pulls the bottoms on, and rolls up the hems. He rejects the pajamas top in favor of the matching tee shirt. He pulls the robe on, and ties it loosely around his waist. As he strolls out of the bathroom, stomach growling, there's a tap at the bedroom door.

"Pizza boy," Conner calls. "You hungry? I got pepperoni. I got sausage. I got four cheese and bacon. I got hamburger. I got be veggie. I got..."

Dick yanks the door open to a big stack of delectable smelling pizza boxes with jeans covered legs sprouting beneath them. "Get in here. I'm starving. Do you have beer?"

"I got beer."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh, god. More. Moremoremoremore," Clark pleads, clutching his husband tightly to him with all his limbs.

Alexander thrusts, lazy and shallow into the warmth of his lover's ass, as he teases, "I'm not sure I got that, Clark. What do you want?"

"Mooooore." Clark bucks, panting. His tentacles tighten insistently around the older man's ass and thighs. "Moremoremore."

"Don't you dare leave suction marks on my ass," Alexander warns. "If I have to cancel one more physical, my dad is going to start spreading rumors about my health again."

His husband is still using complete sentences? That's so wrong. Clark unfurls one tentacle and wraps it around his husband's balls in a sucking massage that Alexander was always helpless to resist. He curls another tentacle down his husband's cleft to begin a slow penetration to tickle over the sweet spot.

"FUCK!" Alexander thrusts harder. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck."

That's better. Clark cups his hand around his lover's head and pulls the other man in for a possessive kiss. He loves this moment. The sensation of Alexander's sleek body trembling helplessly against him, held tightly and willingly in the clutch of his tentacles. The velvety feel of Alexander's stomach rubbing against his cock until he cums with his husband. The taste of his husband's sweaty pleasure and love sweet on his tentacles.

Clark tucks his husband's head against his shoulder. He carefully strokes the smooth bareness of Alexander's head as he reluctantly eases the hold of his tentacles.

"Stay," Alexander orders.

"What? Like this?" Clark wiggles his penetrating tentacle within the snug heat that holds it. He grins at the hoarse sound that his husband makes and the twitch of Alexander's reviving body against his.

"You're going to pay for that. Any second now."

Clark looks down the flawless length of his husband's back. He uncurls one tentacle, and his grin widens as he sees rows of neat purple dots marking his grip on the creamy pale skin of Alexander's scrumptious ass. He turns his head as a phone rings. It's not his.

"Tell them to fuck off." Alexander growls against his shoulder.

Clark grabs the phone and looks at the number. "It's Mercy."

Alexander leans up and snatches it. "Yes? That's interesting. First time for that."

Clark's eyes widen as he listens in. Conner brought a guest to Luthor Manor? Conner's never done that before. Maybe it's Tim Drake. It's a good sign if Conner's finally gotten comfortable enough to invite friends over to the castle.

"Keep an eye on the situation and let me know if I need to kill anyone tomorrow."

Clark rolls his eyes at his husband's dramatics.

"Tell Hope I want a full background report before breakfast, and tell the chef to expect us to be there for breakfast tomorrow."

"A full background report? Really?" Clark asks. He slaps a tentacle across the tempting arc of his husband's ass. "Conner's never going to invite another friend over when he finds out about that. I thought that you wanted him to invite his friends over. And is a breakfast ambush really..."

"Clark. Your son..."

"Oh, now, he's mine?"

"Was last seen at Atlantis. He vanishes and the next time that Mercy and Hope catch up with him, he's got a naked guy stashed in the shower. A naked guy that he's being very protective of. A naked guy that he's sharing pizza and beer with. Does any of this stir any memories? It sounds like the standard Kent seduction m.o. Showers, pools, beer, pizza." Alexander scowls direly. "Tentacle play is next on the agenda."

"Conner's found someone that he trusts enough or wants enough to take the risk with and he hasn't introduced him to us? You, I can understand, but me..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alexander. You aren't exactly warm and welcoming. I can see how Conner might find you a little intimidating..."

"Conner's not any more intimidated by me than you are, Tentacle Boy. Who pounced on whom, tentacles flying..."

"You asked for it." Clark kisses his husband's forehead. "I fully expected you run screaming..."

"Luthors do not run screaming. We stage strategic retreats with covering fire when necessary."

"I never expect you to look at me like I was amazing and beautiful and ask me what I could do with them."

"Tomorrow, we'll find out what our son's been doing with his." Alexander kisses the other man's full mouth. "Now show me what tentacles are good for."


	6. Need (6/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner rescues him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge. 

_ **Title: Need (6/8)** _

Dick drifts on the warm water of an indoor Luthor pool and stares up at the constellations painted over the ceiling. He feels wonderfully relaxed and pleasantly pampered. Too bad he can't have this everyday. It'd been nice to have someone to talk shop with. Someone who understood. Not that he didn't have understanding or shop talk in Gotham, but talking to Conner had been different. And the pampering had been a real luxury and something that he'd never had before.

He's so relaxed he could almost fall asleep here. Dick glances across the pool where poor Conner is doing laps and stroking away like a guy training for a serious competition. He can't blame Conner for the distance; he wouldn't be in any hurry to get close to a rescuee who came all over him either. Maybe if he apologized again. "Conner?"

Conner pauses, floating easily in the water. "Yeah?"

"Where's your...umm," Dick gestures vaguely, not sure what Conner preferred to call his parents.

"Oh. Them. Next door at the farm." Conner grins. "It's written into the prenup contract...you shoulda seen that thing. It must have been twelve inches; Pops is still finding new clauses in there. If Popster's not out of town, and Pops isn't working late, then Pops has to cook and serve dinner every Thursday night at the farm. I stay over here because you wouldn't believe the noise...talk about scaring the livestock."

Good to know that he doesn't need to be concerned about running into Luthor. "Tim's never mentioned this place."

Conner drifts closer. "He's never been here. None of them have. It's Popster's castle, ya know? It didn't feel right to bring guests in."

"Ah. Gotcha. I won't do anything," Dick promises. If Bruce were here, the other man would probably have planted hundreds of bugs by now, and Luthor would've done the same in Wayne Manor. Bruce will have plenty to say if his mentor ever discovers that he had this opportunity and failed to seize it, but Conner had saved his ass in more ways than one tonight.

"Thanks." Conner casually moves closer. "How are you feeling?"

Poor guy scared he's gonna cum all over him again? Dick grins. "All systems normal. Thanks for incinerating that plant."

"My pleasure."

The deep, throaty growl of the other man's voice sends Dick upright, out of his relaxed float. When had Conner gotten so close? He frowns as he notices that Conner's eyes are a dark midnight blue instead of the lighter hue that they had been earlier. "Maybe I should be asking how you are feeling? Conner, are you certain that Need didn't..."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Need." Conner swims closer, crowding Dick against the edge of the pool. "This is about you and me. Dick...I want you. I have for a long time. If you don't want me back..." Conner stares into his eyes, intense and predatory, "now would be a really good time to get out of the pool and go to the guest room."

"You got a water fetish?" Dick asks, half-joking.

"Water feels good. Oceans and ponds. Pools and showers." Conner's eyes half-close. "It's all good. But water with someone that I want in it...that's..." he shudders. "If you're going to leave, do it now. While I can still force myself to allow it."

Dick touches the other man's face curiously. "I've been with an alien before, but I've never wanted a guy before."

Conner leans in and kisses Dick softly. "I'm nothing like Kori."

"Show me." Dick wraps his legs around the alien, and Conner grabs him with a low, urgent sound. Dick looks down at the loose black trunks that he's wrapped around. Conner feels both similar to him and very different. He can feel a muscular shifting flex where there shouldn't be. The motion makes him think uneasily of Need's vines and tendrils, and wonder if he's just offered more than he can give.

"I've never let anyone see," Conner leans his forehead against Dick's. "Are you sure? You feel...curious and hungry and doubtful."

"You're an empath? I never heard that."

"No. I can...taste your emotions right now. The water carries them to me. I can also taste them with direct contact without the water's help."

Dick steals a kiss, nibbling at the younger man's full mouth. He smiles against Conner's mouth as he wonders if he has an alien jones because he hasn't kissed anyone who felt so perfectly warm and right since he'd last kissed Kori. He presses closer to Conner's higher body heat. "What do I taste like now?"

"Mine." Conner growls and surges against him, all sorts of things shifting, flexing, and twisting beneath the loose cotton trunks. His fingers hook around the waistband of Dick's borrowed green trunks and the fabric rips, drifting away in the water.

Dick notices the feel of mosaic tiles against his bare backside as Conner lifts him onto the side of the pool. His entire attention is focused on the sudden inward click of satisfaction, as if being claimed like this is something that he's craved unknowing all his life. The flicker of self-knowledge blows out in the next instance with the heated gust of Conner's breath against his cock. His hands curl around the silken shortness of the alien's hair as Conner hovers, staring at his cock like the younger man is surprised by something. "Conner?"

Conner brushes a finger over the crown. "Now, that's some Wingding."

"Conner," Dick warns, but the rest of his comment evaporates in the alien heat swallowing down his cock. "God, Conner." He fights for some control, but he's still on edge, still hair-trigger sensitive, and he's shooting down the younger man's throat before he can even gasp out a warning. "Damn. I'm sorry, Conner." He smiles weakly as his body slides limply back into the pool and Conner's supportive grasp. "You probably wouldn't believe it after that, but I do have some self-control."

"You needed it." Conner licks Dick's shoulder, tongue exploring the lines of muscle and bone.

Dick sets his hands on the other man's narrow waist and slides the black trunks downward, but Conner's hands close over his. "What?"

Conner blushes and looks away. "I'm...different."

"I noticed."

"Really different."

"Okay."

"Way different."

Dick captures the younger man's nervous gaze. "Conner...if I didn't run away because you're a guy, I'm hardly likely to run away because you're an alien. Aliens are not a new thing for me."

"I know." Conner scowls at the reminder. His chin lifts and his eyes narrow. "But..."

"Trust me. I haven't dropped a partner yet."

Conner takes a deep breath and shoves his trunks off. "Fine. There."

Dick stares down into the water, uncertain of what exactly he's seeing. It's like and very much unlike. It's beautiful in a completely alien way and makes him feel plain, blunt, and unadorned. He strokes a finger down the tight muscles of Conner's stomach and a tentacle snaps around his hand. Almost instantly it releases him. Another tentacle curls around his cock and recoils immediately.

"Sorry. It's not completely voluntary."

The tension in Conner's voice draws his fascinated stare upwards to see Conner staring resolutely over his shoulder. A muscle flexes in the alien's jaw. Dick loops an arm around Conner's neck and presses his body full against the other man's. "You make me look boring. I'm surprised you want me."

Conner stares down at him wide-eyed. "Dick?"

Dick shivers as the curious tentacles curl around him, exploring and kneading. The warm, playful flex of Conner's body over and around him feels nothing like the cold clammy touch of Need. He rubs his thigh against Conner's flank, offering more of his skin to the delicate sucking caress. "Oh, yeah. Conner, that feels...more."

"As much more as you want," Conner promises, his smile lighting up his face. "As long as you want." He pulls Dick further into the water and kisses him, long and deep


	7. Need (7/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge.

Dick looks down at the slow curl and uncurl of Conner's tentacles around him in the early morning sunshine. Small purple ovals track across his thighs and stomach like the footprints of tiny explorers heading toward on Mount Cock. He strongly suspects that his ass is similarly dotted. With his training, the constant random touching made it difficult to sleep at first, but he had gradually gotten used to it, even managing to drop off into a deep sleep by 2 a.m.

He strokes a finger over a tentacle resting on his stomach and it promptly curls around his hand. Dick grins at his hand is pulled toward Conner's lifting cock. He obediently strokes it, enjoying the warm heavy glide against his hand. He shifts over, careful of tentacles, and loops his thigh over the alien's side, offering himself up to the sleepy kneading touch.

"You taste happy." Conner opens his eyes and smiles.

"That would be because I feel happy."

"Good." Conner blinks at him, smile widening into a grin. He lifts a big hand and rumples the inky shock of the other man's hair. "It's black again. No offense, but I think you look better as a brunette."

"It's worn off? Good. Going blond wasn't my idea, you know."

"I know." Conner's eyes narrow into a predatory expression that reminds Dick very disconcertingly of where half of Conner's genes came from. "Wanna go hunting after breakfast?"

He's perfectly capable of dealing with Ivy and Harley himself, but the offer warms him. Dick grins. "Gonna teach 'em to mess with your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend," Conner seems to taste the word.

Dick blanks his face into a completely neutral expression, hoping that he hasn't impulsively landed himself into another one night stand. He'd done that once with Huntress and discovered that it wasn't what he needed. "Too much?"

"Not enough." Conner kisses him hard. "But it will do for now."

"Harley will get hers soon enough." Dick slides a hand over the width of creamy gold skin. He circles the tightness of a pink nipple.

"What do you mean?"

"Before you arrived, I heard Harley cry out and saw a flash of light. It was bright and brief like lightening, and for a second, there were two figures silhouetted against Need's petals."

"Caught up with her, hmm? Stealing from magicians never ends well. The bastards are almost as possessive as Kryptonians." Conner takes another kiss as his tentacles tug Dick closer. "What about Ivy?"

"I don't think she was there." Dick moans and his leg tightens around the warmth of his lover, urging the alien full against him. "Deal with her later. I'd rather do this."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Alexander snaps his cell phone closed and sets it by his breakfast plate. He glowers at his husband. "I hope you are satisfied."

"Me?" Clark leers at him across a plate piled high with food. "Always, Snow Leopard."

"That's the fourth physical that I've had to cancel." Alexander pretends to glower at the teasing reference to the spots decorating his ass and thighs. "I would think that by your age, you would have enough control to make those thing behave."

"Ummmm," Clark hums happily as he pours syrup over a massive stack of waffles mobbed by strawberries and blueberries. "What can I say...you're too much for my tentacles, Alexander."

Alexander sprinkles a sparse amount of salt and pepper on his egg white omelet on wheat toast. His lips curl with smug satisfaction at his success in provoking Clark into a complete loss of control again. Not that he'd ever found it difficult, but it's far more fun to exercise his talent for Clark provocation in the bedroom. "This has to stop. I'm running out of believable excuses, Clark."

"You? I don't believe that." Clark tries to pile more berries onto the waffle loading his fork. "You're the soul of creativity."

Alexander cuts off a neat bite of egg and toast. He stabs it with his fork. "Lionel is going to alarm the other board members with tales of a secret illness, and launch a new campaign for control."

"Good." Clark stuffs his forkful into his mouth and chews blissfully.

"Good?" Alexander stares in disbelief. "Good? My father is trying to regain control of LuthorCorp and all you can say is 'good'? I know you're a business moron, but do you not realize that if Lionel gets LuthorCorp, he will move on LexCorp next?"

"You've been bored at work lately." Unconcerned, Clark goes after more waffle. "You've been sighing every time you reach for your briefcase and dawdling on the way out to the chopper. You yawn your way through the business news, barely bother to look at the stocks, annnd...worse, you've reading those science journals on the sly again." Clark jabs a loaded fork at him. "You know what reading those do to you."

"Reading is supposed to be educational, Clark. One is supposed to wake up, chock full of interesting and new ideas." Alexander reaches for his pomegranate juice.

"You know you love fighting with Lionel."

"Lionel is dangerous."

"Exactly." Clark hums in pleasure as he eats. "Good waffles today."

"They had better be exactly like you like them. That's what the chef is paid to do. News will be leaked out and stocks will fall." Alexander pauses for another bite of egg and toast, and then continues in a blatantly condescending tone, "That's a business bad thing, Clark."

Clark eyes his lover with anticipation. "I see someone is looking to get tentacle spanked tonight."

"I don't know what you mean." Alexander steals a fat strawberry from his husband's plate. He gives Clark a sly sidelong look. "Did I mention that I rescheduled for the 10th?"

"I made a note of it." Clark taps his temple.

"Good. I hate to imagine what the doctors will think if I cancel again."

"You couldn't care less and you know it."

"I don't think you appreciate the seriousness." Alexander poaches three blueberries and a corner of waffle. "LuthorCorp specifically requires that all board members, and the CEO pass an annual..."

Clark helps himself to a forkful of egg on toast from the other man's plate. "And you can change that rule any time you want to."

Alexander huffs. He slices off a bigger section of waffle and steals the biggest strawberry on his husband's plate. "Like you know anything about it." He glances provocatively at Clark. "Business moron."

Clark stares back, teal eyes intent. He licks his full lips. "You know what happens to bad geniuses?"

"No. What?" Alexander leans closer, staring at the lush shape of his husband's mouth.

"And this is the...oops!" Conner's voice breaks in. He glowers at his parents. "Pops. Popster. What are you doing here?"

Alexander relaxes back against his chair. His assessing gaze moves from his son's flushed face to the compact and muscular brunette standing next to Conner. The blue eyes go wide with gratifying shock and horror for a fleeting second before turning guarded. "I own the place. Remember?"

"Eating breakfast, son. What does it look like?" Clark casually turns and looks the two young men over, his teal stare anything, but casual. "Come join us."

"Yes, do." Alexander waves a hand at the buffet. "There's enough for an army here."

Conner scowls. "Yeah? I wonder why?"

"Well," Alexander begins in a deceptively agreeable tone, "Your father and I worked up quite an appetite last..."

"Hey!" Conner sits down and parks a loaded plate in front of him. "I don't want to hear it."

"Then don't ask questions to which you are unprepared to hear the answers." Alexander turns a bared teeth smile on the brunette easing into a chair next to his son. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Mr. Luthor. Mr. Kent. I'm..."

"Dick Grayson. I know." Alexander stares at the boy, watching Dick wonder uneasily what else he knew and how much. On his other side, he can see Clark polishing off the rest of the waffles and silently studying the two boys.

"Popster," Conner warns.

Alexander ignores his son and continues staring aggressively into the cool blue of eyes of his son's companion. The report that Mercy had submitted before breakfast had been quite promising. At least Conner had had more sense than to unleash his tentacles with some floozy. He conceals a pleased smile as Dick holds his stare and continues casually crunching bacon like the boy breakfasts with supervillians everyday.

At the edge of his vision, he can see his husband also staring at Dick. Interesting that Clark's stare is the one that the boy is trying to avoid catching. Yes, Nightwing might do very well for Conner. Alexander picks up his glass of juice and drinks.

Conner frowns at Clark. "Pops. Stop it."

"Why Bludhaven?" Alexander sets his glass down. "I fail to see the attraction...unless it's the crime rate."

"Popster!" Conner snarls at him.

"Conner," Clark warns softly. He sets his fork on his empty place and captures his son's glance. "We have a right to be concerned."

"You know him," Conner snaps. His jaw flexes as he bites back more words as Dick clamps a hand around his wrist.

Alexander raises an eyebrow, wondering if the young man is under any illusions about how much they know about them. Or more likely it's how much he knows that's a matter of concern. "Yes, Conner. We do know Dick."

Conner blinks suspiciously at his choice of wording. Dick stares at him with narrowed eyes, equally suspicious and uncertain about how to take the comment. Clark hides a smirk behind a napkin.

"I would trust Dick with my life," Clark lowers the napkin, "but my son? I don't know." He looks at Grayson. "Your older than Conner."

Dick nods. "Yes, I am, and with all due respect, Mr. Luthor is older than you are. It seems to have worked out for you."

Time to step in. Alexander leans forward and lets the younger man really look into his gaze. "Are you under the impression that this is a debate, Nightwing? Conner is my son, and I would take it most ill, if words regarding my son's...added attractions should drift to any ears."

Conner turns red. "Popster!"

"If you know anything about me, then you know that I know how to keep and guard a secret." Dick looks from Alexander to Clark and back. "I care about him. Any secrets that Conner has are safe with me. I don't know where this is going yet, but I care very much, and I intend to see where it goes, with or without your approval." Dick starts suddenly, blue eyes widening. He blushes. "Conner!"

"As long as we understand each other." Alexander smirks. Ah, honeymoon tentacle. He remembers those days. Of course, his days are still like that since Clark is wonderfully incapable of keeping a tentacles off policy for long. "Try the pomegranate juice, Dick. It's excellent."

 

  



	8. Need (8/8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightwing gets kidnapped. Conner him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tentacle Fest challenge. 

"I still can't believe that I just had breakfast with your fathers and survived." Dick pauses to admire the famed Lillian Luthor flower garden.

"Popster takes some getting used to."

Dick shivers as he remembers that long stare down into Luthor's gray eyes. And he'd always thought that Joker was the scariest supervillain on the planet. "Yeah. I can see that." He pushes up the sleeves of his borrowed sweats and glances at his wrist before he remembers that his watch is gone along with his clothes. He squints at the sundial in the middle of the flower bed. "I guess I better see about booking a flight back for tomorrow."

"Stay. You said you wanted to see where Pops grew up. We'll run down to Fordman's and grab you some clothes. Have coffee at the Talon. Take a tour of the farm. Visit Crater Lake..." Conner leers cheerfully at him. "Tomorrow, we can hit Metropolis for a late, parent-free breakfast, take in the sights, and then you can show me Bludhaven. Conner Air can deliver you to your doorstep any time."

"I don't know." Dick pretends to consider. "Is a movie?"

"No, but the in-flight service is outstanding." Conner's leer gets bigger.

"In that case...Conner Air sounds like the best choice." Dick snatches a fast kiss and takes off across the garden with Conner in pursuit.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Alexander stands on the roof, watching his son. He hopes that he won't have to kill Dick. "Conner looks happy."

"Ummm." Clark slides his arms around his husband. "And after we ambushed his brand new boyfriend with breakfast. He's a resilient boy."

"You would've still been brooding."

"We all have our talents." Clark nuzzles his husband's throat. "Since you don't have a physical to do any longer, does that mean that there's a gap in your schedule?"

"As it happens..." Alexander leans pliantly back against Clark's sturdy frame.

Clark slips a hand beneath the black suit jacket and spreads his fingers across the warmth of silk-covered Alexander. "You know how hot it gets me when you wear purple."

"Why do you think I have so much of it?" Alexander stares lazily up at the clouds. "Did I mention that I've ordered a custom-colored Porsche."

"Oh, god." Clark breathes heavily. "When will it arrive?"

"Soon...in the mean time," Alexander turns in his husband's embrace. He slides his hands down the front of Clark's blue dress shirt to palm the shape hidden by navy trousers. "I added an upgrade to our bedroom here."

"What?" Clark moans and presses urgently into the other man's slow caress.

"A new tub." Alexander bites Clark's earlobe. "Marble. Sunken. Deep. Big enough for five. Decorator said it was the next thing to having a private pool instead." He sticks his tongue Clark's ear.

"Ooooooohgod."

THE END

 

　

  



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